


014. Home

by unmixythings



Series: unmixythings' 100 SuJu Fic Challenge [1]
Category: Super Junior
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-24
Updated: 2012-04-24
Packaged: 2017-11-04 05:49:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/390453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unmixythings/pseuds/unmixythings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the fame. After the love. After the loss. What's left behind?</p>
            </blockquote>





	014. Home

_“I like this one.”_

_“We’ll take a look at it tomorrow.”_

_“I can’t believe I’ve agreed to live with you.”_

 

He stepped inside. His hair was damp. It was drizzling outside. The place was empty like it had been for over seven years. White cloth covered maple wood furnishings. There was a thick layer of dust along all the other surfaces. He touched his hand along the carved stair banister and dragged it through the dust. Wondering if the lights still worked, he flicked the switch. They came on; slowly at first, the dim bulbs flickering to life after years of disuse.

This used to be theirs. They loved it here, a small, almost quaint two-level house on a beautiful island. Getting away from the hectic noise of the big city was something they decided to do even before they gave up the limelight. But now, only this was left. An empty house. It lacked the life it once held.

Lee Donghae let his feet guide him. He could almost see the way it used to be. An assortment of paintings, prints, and posters lined the walls. There was a small, round, wooden table sitting in the foyer. A simple glass vase sat upon it, filled with the most recent fresh flowers Donghae had found through a small field of wildflowers. New ones every day.

 

_“Where are the roses?”_

_“There are no roses. It’s a wildflower field.”_

_“Wild roses?”_

_“There aren’t any in this field.”_

_“So go to another field. I want to come downstairs and see roses, not just orchids and hydrangeas.”_

 

Donghae laughed out loud, the sound echoing back at him in the stark foyer. To see his lover’s face when he had come downstairs the next day to find a dozen red roses crammed into the glass vase.

 

_“Wild roses?”_

_“No. They’re from the store in town.”_

_“You went into town?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“I wanted wild roses.”_

_“Pretend they are.”_

_“You told me they weren’t. I can’t pretend if I know.”_

 

They had changed each other. His lover had allowed him to grow. He had become more mature after they had started their life together. He had to, to deal with him. In turn, his lover allowed himself to dream more, to be able to look into the sky and see fantasy, not just clouds.

 

Donghae found his way into the kitchen. All the appliances were still there, but the countertops seemed to have lost their shine. The stove still had traces of black charred across the white surface.

 

_“Is something burning? Ah! Donghae-yah!”_

_“Damn it.”_

_“What were you thinking of this time?”_

_“Nothing… I just… do you think faeries use dandelion seeds as transportation?”_

_“No.”_

_“Oh… okay then… I’m sorry I’ve ruined breakfast. Always with my head in the clouds.”_

_“Don’t change.”_

_“What?”_

_“I love you with your head in the clouds. Don’t worry. I’ll keep you from floating too far away.”_

Donghae let the memory wash over him. He still wasn’t able to cook breakfast properly. It always seemed to be that in the early hours of the day, his mind wandered the most. Even now he just stuck to cereal and tea. But breakfasts had been warmer back then when he was able to look across the tiny kitchen table in the cramped breakfast nook and see his lover’s big, sultry eyes staring back at him over a magazine or book. His small apartment in Seoul was nothing in comparison.

 

_“Where would you like to live?”_

_“And why would you have a say in that?”_

_“I want us to live together, hyung.”_

_“Two grown men living together somewhere? Sounds like ammunition for the tabloids.”_

_“This isn’t going to be forever. The fans move on to the next pretty thing. Even I know that.”_

_“…… The countryside.”_

_“It’s a promise, hyung.”_

 

It had been so easy to fall in love and though that love would never have died, keeping their relationship took work. Having known each other for so long, they were used to each other’s idiosyncrasies, but they still argued about things, big and small. It had taken time to get used to the sudden hush of their new lives after fame. They had to grow again as normal people with shiny pasts. Donghae knew his lover missed the lights and screams, but didn’t miss the exploitation and criticism. Donghae missed the high energy and applause, but didn’t miss the sleepless nights and fickleness.

But every kiss, caress, and intimate whisper proved they were strong enough to become normal again. And this place had helped. They put both of their personalities into the décor. They compromised and worked together. They worked and shopped and talked like all the other villagers. People didn’t know them and it was like starting over again.

Sometimes the phone would ring. Shiwon and Hangeng from China. Ryeowook, Jongoon, and Kyuhyun from a busy recording studio. Sungmin and Hyukjae from their travels. Youngoon and Jungsu from their home in London. Kibum from his latest movie set. Donghee from the green room of his hit variety show. And it would all come back; the memories of adoring fans, lights, makeup, singing, dancing, acting, and group hugs.

After someone called, Donghae would find his lover sitting before the fireplace, curled in a down blanket. Sometimes there was no fire in the fireplace, or it was too hot to be curled in a blanket, but he would still be there with the blanket around him tightly. When it was cold, he would stare into flames. When it was warm, he would stare into darkness.

 

Donghae realized that his memories had taken him physically into the living room. The sheet-covered couch and armchairs glowered at him like ghosts. He walked into the foyer again. Standing at the foot of the staircase, he couldn’t move. Donghae couldn’t bring himself to go upstairs. There wasn’t much there. A den, a bathroom, and the bedroom. That was it. The bedroom. He was already having flashbacks, but being in the bedroom again might just break him. He couldn’t do it. The way his lover looked in the morning, not perfect, but devastatingly beautiful. The way they pressed against each other, skin thrumming with excitement and eyes filled with longing. He couldn’t go on like this. Turning to face the main door, Donghae sighed. This place had become so different.

 

_“It’s a beautiful house.”_

_“It’s a bit small.”_

_“Smaller than the cramped apartments, which we had to share with way more than one more person?”_

_“I like it. I never said I didn’t.”_

_“It’s not just a house anymore, hyung. It’s our home.”_

_“There’s no difference.”_

_“You’ll see, hyung. It’s all the difference in the world.”_

 

Donghae opened the door. The air was even frostier than before. With a sharp intake of breath, Donghae realized it was snowing. He let his sneakers sink into the inch of snow that had built up. The door was left opened, ignored in favour of creating footsteps in the fresh snow. If only Kim Heechul could see him now. He would laugh, as he always had when Donghae was absorbed in the magic of snowfall.

 

_“How can you love something so cold and wet?”_

 

“It’s enough now,” Donghae whispered to the sky.

 

_“Don’t come near me with your freezing hands, Lee Donghae!”_

“I can’t keep my promise anymore, hyung.”

 

_“Let me and some hot chocolate warm you up.”_

 

“With marshmallows?” Donghae became caught up in his memories. A sob broke through the silent night.

 

_“Anything for you.”_

 

“It’s too hard. And without you here, it won’t ever be living again.” Donghae stared desperately into the sky. “I can’t keep holding on.”

 

With that, the memories stilled. Donghae didn’t bother to wipe away the tears even as he hung the sign up on the metal bar he had pushed into the ground before his final tour.

 

For Sale.

 

Their home had become a house. Just a house with nothing left but the dull ache of memory and the chilled bite of winter setting in. Donghae felt bad that he couldn’t keep his promise. He knew Heechul would be pissed off, but he had already taken the final step. Cutting himself away from this house, their former home, he cut himself from hope. Without hope, Donghae’s time would begin to run out quickly, moved by his own hand.

 

_“Don’t be a fool. There’s a life beyond me, this illness. You’ll find something or someone else to live for and then you’ll tell me all about it at the end.”_

_“You’re still so stubborn.”_

_“That’s a promise, Lee Donghae. Don’t be stupid and break it.”_

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-post from my LJ. Hope you've enjoyed reading.


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